Apparently, I will read just about anything with an angel in it these days—even a kids’ book, in which I know there will be no chance of random angelsextiems. Actually, in this particular book, it seems there’s really no chance of anything. Nothing happens. There are some orphans and a girl with experimental fashion sense and an angelic narrator who speaks with an occasionally charming shaky grasp on grammar. But NOTHING HAPPENS. The angel wonders why it is unfinished, without a purpose, and I was interested in the answer to that question. But one does not materialize. There are small town shenanigans and more orphans and no one threatens to throw anyone else back into Hell or visits a den of iniquity or speaks Enochian or ANYTHING. Bleh. I think, even as a child myself—without an angelsextiems agenda—this book would have bored me. I always liked it when things happened.